I am, with impurities so tainted
I am, with impurities so tainted
My skins stained, my mind blighted
My feet muddy, my body
Murky with sweat, my reputation
Besmirched, and night so well
With darkness hug me, I sometimes
Shake and rattle my bones,
If I am still whole, still intact,
With all these impurities and
Mechanical defects, my spiritual
Brokenness, these fractured feelings,
I am so tainted, I am so dirtied,
I am not scared and estranged
And stranded, I am, I so assume,
Just being real, and compliant
With what a human being
Should be, in shades of black
White, and some taints and stains
And tinting shades of colors
Some sounds of pebbles
Shaking in a tin can, some
Gargles, some spits, some
Itches on my head, some silent
Nods of my usual acceptances
To all these, I clasp my hands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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